Striptease
by Villain
Summary: Yusuke goes to a strip club and is captivated by a certain Fox. Inside, prostitute!Kurama rears his stunning head. Yusuke/Kurama, D/s, M/M, Lemon, NC, Yaoi


Disclaimer: No, Villain doesn't hold any rights to Yu Yu Hakusho, though I try not to think about that. I swear I'd give them a good home!

...

STRIPTEASE

The seedy place called Boy Talks had a giant neon figure above the door: a young man outlined naked riding a giant cigar. Yusuke watched the bucking cowboy as he decided whether to turn and go back home, or indulge his curiosity. The latter won out, and he pushed through the paneled doors, emerging in a smoky room filled with barely clad twinkies and older business men. His eyes drifted to the stage where a boy that couldn't possibly be legal was impaling himself on a dildo. Scattered applause followed after the boy came, and a musty velvet curtain closed the rounded stage. A greasy man (the manager he assumed) trotted out. Patrons seated around the black room murmured quietly, sipping drinks, a couple of them receiving lewd lap dances from more twinks in cutoffs and spandex.

Leaning back up on the bar, Yusuke ordered a beer. As it chilled next to him, he watched as a little blonde thing took notice of him and started weaving his way through the crowd. Was it just him, or had more people come in? The blonde sidled up, jock strap the only thing on his body besides a sheen of glitter and sweat. Yusuke spared him a glance, taking a deep drink.

"Never seen you around here," the blonde sang. He curled up around Yusuke's side, blowing his words into an ear. Laying his head against a strong shoulder, the blonde moved his hand over a delightfully muscled chest. "Listen," he purred, "You're a sight for sore eyes. I'll give you half off the normal price, handsome."

"Sorry; tonight I'm just looking."

"If that's what you want," he pouted, winding his arms around Yusuke's waist, "But, would you mind if I just stayed with you a bit? See that old fart over there-" he motioned with his eyes to an overweight man in an ill fitting business suit, who every few seconds would rub his crotch. He wrinkled his nose. "I'd rather miss a payday than get stuck under that toad." Nuzzling Yusuke's neck, he sighed contentedly. "You feel just like my old boyfriend."

"Yeah, what happened to him?"

"He got sick of me whoring myself out. But I have to make money some way, right? It's going well so far, except for guys like that fat toad over there. They come around a lot. It's like they think just because I'm a guy they can treat me rougher or something."

Yusuke looked down at the slim figure. "He hurt you?"

"Him? Not really. I've given him a lap dance tonight already, and he groped me; the usual." Looking up with starry blue eyes, he shrugged, "Sorry to go on like this. Just another sad story from a lost cause."

"I've been called that myself a fair share." Pulling the prostitute closer, he leaned down and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Let me get you a drink." The blonde laughed, and Yusuke liked how his eyes brightened.

"As odd as this might sound, a glass of cold water would be really nice."

They sipped their drinks in silence, the blonde holding his with both hands. Out of the corner of his eyes, the detective watched him, unexpectedly sad. This was just a *kid*, doing all this shit for old perverts. He rubbed his eyes, the twink turning to him seriously.

"Hey, if you're tired, you can lie down upstairs. I'll stay with you if you want; no charge."

"No, I'm good here. Just waiting for some entertainment is all."

"Paully has to set up first backstage. Fox is next, that's why all these people are here. He plays on a whim, and when people catch wind of it, they come stampeding. Good pay nights, but only after his show. Everybody's turned on, so it's not so hard to make a couple hundred or more."

"Fox, huh? What does he do?"

"Dances mainly. Without music, and all. He's really hot though, so it doesn't matter. A rose pales in comparison to his face. The guy's sex on two legs."

His interest piqued. "Seriously?"

The already murky atmosphere of the club dimmed further. Setting down his beer, Yusuke tilted his head to the side, allowing the blonde to lick at his neck. Absently, he set his hands on the tapered waist, eyes drawn to the stage. Curtains parted, and a lone figure stood silhouetted against the navy sparkle backdrop. The house fell silent, and even the smoke rose up out of the way. Yusuke noticed hands dropping below belt lines, men pushing twinks underneath tables. He could feel the sexual tension in the air. Drawn into it, he pulled the blonde closer against his hip, separating slender legs with his knee. Then the lights slowly came up on the stage; stained golden light.

Like a sun rising, on a head of red hair. Yusuke's grip tightened on the blonde's waist, and the twink hissed willingly, rubbing up against his front. But the detective barely noticed, his eyes trained on the beautiful body of the dancer on the stage.

Green eyes, surrounded by heavy makeup, rose to catch the whole room's breath, blood red lips open, legs parted and bent on the stage. Red hair cascaded down his shoulders. Leather straps making up a harness hugged close to his slender body, gloved hands caressing the provided pole in a way that Yusuke could feel the massaging digits on his own member. Then the dancer leaned out into the crowd, hanging from one arm, and lifted a hand to blow a kiss.

Low whistles started as the redhead began to move, swinging around the pole. Fishnet gloves stretching up past his elbows, matched by thigh high fishnet stockings. When his feet left the ground, a couple patrons howled and the dancer smiled flirtatiously at them all, slowly snaking his way up the pole, wrapping his legs around it. Letting go with his hand, he leaned far back so that his fiery locks brushed the ground, barely concealed cock bulging against the leather casing. A couple men groaned, arching their hips out as twinks took their stations between splayed legs automatically.

The dancer swung down to his feet and lifted one leg all the way up so he was doing splits against the pole. Curling the raised foot, he jumped out and swung around-red hair flying like a banner-until his back rested arched on the black stage. When he made a small sound, a keening groan, half the room groaned with him, including Yusuke. He shifted against the pole once, twice, hard so that his hair shook. In the front row handkerchiefs were magically appearing in hands and Yusuke glanced down once to look over a see of bobbing heads as twinks serviced in the stifling climate. His own twink, the blonde at his side, was still kissing his neck, and Yusuke grabbed the boy's hand, shoving it into his jeans. Gasping, the blonde, his wet mouth open against Yusuke's skin, began to stroke him effortlessly.

On the stage, the redhead got to his knees, arms moving up the pole as his face constricted in a pained expression, hips striving against the metal. He breath slipped into the air above them and arm over arm he pulled himself to his feet. Whirling, he slammed his back against the pole, hands clasped behind him as if in shackles. Yusuke wished he was.

Leaving the pole for the first time, the dancer walked out on the short catwalk, long legs flexing with each carefully construed step. Hands wandered over his skin, down between his legs. That vicious red mouth never closed, and those beautiful eyes, smoldering embers; they never quite opened all the way. Panting crowded the room, and muffled cries sounded. The dancer looked out over his domain, and crouched down, the leather around his cock barely enough to keep him in. They all leaned forward, hungry eyes stabbing between spread legs and leather straps. Red hair flipped over in a veil covering one eye and Yusuke had never seen anything so erotic. He was painfully hard, crushed by the subconscious knowledge that the hand curling around his shaft wasn't the redhead's skilled mouth.

Then the dancer whirled around on one foot and backed to the end of the stage, bending over, curving his sculpted body in a graceful arc, hair coming to rest in beautiful moist curls over the stage. Those green eyes met Yusuke's through the shadows and the smoke... and the dancer lost his smile.

Frozen in that position, Kurama stared at his friend, stomach plummeting as recognition dawned in Yusuke's eyes. He didn't even notice the eager hands trailing over his thighs and tugging on the leather straps as Yusuke came towards him, some blonde kid tagging along behind him. When the detective was close, he sat down right at eye level and wrapped sure fingers in the scarlet waves. He yanked the redhead down a little further, and Kurama gasped as his legs bent. Gracefully he collapsed, twisting like a cat to land on his hands and knees. The whole club watched with baited breath.

"How much for you."

"... Yusuke."

The crowd reeled, it was the first time Fox had ever spoken during a performance. His husky, melodious voice snapped them out of their reverie and a few stood up.

"Hey, asshole, the show isn't over yet!"

"That ass doesn't belong to you, boy, so go on home!"

But his calm eyes never strayed from frightened green ones. His voice was steady. "How much to fuck you."

The manager, who the blonde had called Paully, came over and tentatively interrupted the staring match. "Is there a problem here, gentlemen?"

"We need a room." Yusuke held up a wad of cash he'd taken from his mother's sock drawer. She wouldn't miss the money, and it would do her liver some good. Besides, it was what the government paid her for welfare, so Yusuke had a right to use dirty money for dirty things. Damn lucky it happened to be a lot this month, too. Enough that old fat Paully's eyes lit up.

"This way, sir." Paully swelled, shoving scowling customers and a hurt looking blonde out of the way. As they passed, Yusuke took the blonde twink's chin in his hand and handed him some money. The boy smiled sadly. As they went behind a dark curtain further back in the club, which opened to a narrow and creaky flight of stairs up a red hall, Paully leered at him. "You have good taste."

Yusuke glanced over at Kurama, whose head remained bowed as Paully kept a hard grip on his arm. "I know." It was an odd emotion he was feeling. This was Kurama being dragged along next to him, in a bondage outfit. Kurama who he just bought for a fuck. A fuck he was looking forward to. What came after, what this all meant, was nothing then in that hallway.

Kurama's eyes looked wet. Paully pushed him into a relatively clean room, and snatched Yusuke's cash from the detective. "Have fun with him," he rasped, breathless from the trek up the stairs.

Yusuke nodded sharply and slammed the door shut. Rounding on the kitsune, he moved across the room quickly. Kurama backed away from him, but he caught the redhead's wrist and threw him down on the bed. It made the most delicious creaking sound. For some reason, he wanted to be as noisy as possible. The fluorescent bulb above their heads buzzed and cackled, the walls thrummed with exposed pipes painted to blend with the wall. And it was easy to hear the moans and thumping from other rooms. Running his hand along the waistline of his jeans, Yusuke pushed a hand in, gripping himself. A groan broke out and he stared lazily down as the redhead curled up on the bed, staring at him with the biggest, greenest eyes possible.

Hurt streamed from Kurama's eyes. "Yusuke," he whispered. With visible fear he watched the detective start to undress, muscles outlined harshly under the poor lighting. Strength radiated from him, but not the strength Kurama knew. It was so different, more basic. More like all the other men who stalked the floor downstairs. Kurama swallowed nervously, tensing when Yusuke stood in front of him, thumb hooked in his unbuttoned jeans. He looked expectant. Mean. Not like Yusuke. Biting his lip, the kitsune sat up, running his fingers through his hair. Money had changed hands: it struck him like a blow. He didn't know what to say, but needed to speak, just to wake up in this strange dream. "Y-you've never told me you went to these places."

"Talk is cheap, and I just spent a lot of money." Complicated clasps and straps covered the redhead's pale body. Kurama was sitting up on the edge of the bed, one hand reaching out, posed in the air as if in indecision. He moved forward and grabbed Kurama's wrist, pulling the fox up. Quick breaths hit his closed mouth, big green eyes filling his vision. With his other hand, Yusuke stretched down and cupped the leather cup between Kurama's legs. The breaths against his mouth caught, a thin whimper included when they became steady again. Feeling around, Yusuke found a clasp and flicked it open. Straps came loose in his hands and he literally unraveled Kurama. His fingers dug into the tendons of the kitsune's wrist as Kurama made an attempt to pull away. Jerking the straps hard enough to jar the slender frame, Yusuke leaned in, his lips parting to claim Kurama's mouth. Wincing, the redhead resisted, turning his face to the side. Abandoned lips pursed.

"What's gotten into you, Yusuke?" he pleaded, finally yanking his hand away. Yusuke was standing over him, a dark look in his eyes that Kurama was used to glimpsing from the stage, not on the face of a friend. He had only been bought twice before-as a ningen-and the expressions were alike, always. But this was Yusuke. The boy could be drunk, or even drugged. Kurama wouldn't allow the thought of treacherous intent to enter his mind. His love for Yusuke would not permit such mistrust. Sitting up, he stroked Yusuke's arm with a placating touch. "Is everything all right with you?"

"If you won't let me strip you, then get up and give me a show." The hand resting on his forearm stilled. Sweet emerald pools hardened into ice. In turn, Yusuke's own face melted into a rough expression, the tightness in his pants speaking volumes louder than his fading conscience. He'd paid money to be with the red haired dancer, and so be it.

Resolve gnawed at his mind. "Yusuke, you just saw the show." Aching seeped into his chest, a stinking mix of fear, betrayal, and odd anticipation. "But I refuse to fight you before you have a chance to come to your senses."

"That running mouth is wasting time, and time is money," he growled. "Put it to better use." Roughly he grabbed a fistful of hair and dragged Kurama off the bed so that slender legs twisted on the floor. Swallowing Kurama's shallow gasps, Yusuke plundered the hot mouth and his callused fingers ripped at the loosened bands of leather over Kurama's body. Pulling and yanking, muffling Kurama's whimpers and gasps of pain, he finally had the kitsune naked, red marks dotting the pale skin where his fingers had dug and gripped. Drawing back, Yusuke looked down at him, crumpled back against the foot of the bed, plush lips swollen and red, hair matted, and body streaked with rough marks and flushed of glitter from the show. No, this wasn't Kurama. Not at all.

Burns from the leather etched across his chest were red, and Kurama pressed his cool fingers to one, soothing his skin. The small comfort lasted only seconds, until Yusuke took his chin in his hands and forced Kurama to look up at him. With his neck painfully craned, Kurama blinked behind a thin veil of red fringe and struggled to control his breathing. Yusuke's groin practically pressed his face, fingers guiding his teeth to a sharply metallic zipper that clipped against his teeth. Humility, a postponed guest until now, blossomed in hot rays over his cheeks, melting into his damp hairline. The smell of heavy musk and metal filled his nostrils, and Kurama blanched, twisting to dislodge the hold on his hair. That firm hold only tightened further, and Kurama felt a few hairs come loose from his skull. The sting summoned reflexive tears to his eyes, and he set his teeth in a hard embrace around the zipper, wincing at the stingy taste. His palms sweated against the carpet, and he bent his elbows painstakingly, drawing the zipper down with a scratchy roar. When Yusuke pulled his head back, Kurama wetted his lips, prepared.

His knees hit the carpet, diving in between Kurama hands, shoving them apart. The redhead pitched forward into him, and he lifted the slight body up against him so Kurama straddled his knees. Just inside the flap of his pants, his painful erection throbbed, jumping when Kurama's groin brushed it. Letting out a small groan of his own, Yusuke pulled Kurama forward for an abrupt kiss.

The kiss was vile, all teeth. Kurama came away with blood on his lips, gasping through the redness when Yusuke's mouth closed on his throat, sucking viciously, heavy hands plowing slowly down his body, nails seeking to flatten every inch with searing strokes. He arched against the boy, their nipples connecting little tips to little tips, jolting them both with minute electricity. Yusuke grunted as he thrust upwards, rubbing the moist crevice of denim to Kurama's crotch. The friction was hot and sticky, harshened by the zipper's teeth biting at the kitsune's flesh. Guided by Yusuke's hands, Kurama flexed his legs, riding the aching pressure, cheeks flushed hot and red and his eyes wept against Yusuke's neck. His cock burned raw against the coarse jeans, slowly stirring to life as Yusuke danced harder against him. Their mouths rocked next to each other, open, blowing gusts of hot moist air onto stained cheeks and already dripping strands of hair.

Yusuke jerked Kurama even closer, simply dragging the kitsune up and down against his body, torturing himself with the redhead's hot skin. When the tip of his cock finally broke past the opened confines of his jeans, he threw Kurama away, against the bed. Pulse singing in his ears, he lay back, pushing the jeans off his hips, heavy lidded eyes trained on his companion. Meanwhile, Kurama lay quite still, chest rapidly rising and falling, his own erection already weeping. The sight of such a deconstructed Kurama somewhat disappointed Yusuke. "How long have you been a whore?"

Speaking directly from the shady rules Paully set before the house-despite Yusuke being a friend-Kurama muttered, "We don't share personal-"

"No wonder you're so good at it. Touch yourself."

The order was so abrupt Kurama stared for a moment. Yusuke had moved back to the wall, one arm up and crooked on a pipe. His legs were splayed and his heavy cock stood proudly up from his groin. If they had met this way under different circumstances, Kurama would have not hesitated in complimenting the detective's athletic build. But under the glaring dirty lights, with the gritty carpet beneath him and the used bed behind, Kurama rid himself of such petty distractions. His green eyes were deep with feeling, mixed and unclear. Lips tight, he obediently got to his knees and locked that deep gaze with his client, brushing the tips of his fingers over his torso, down his midsection, barely hovering over his pronounced shaft. When Yusuke nodded, Kurama gripped himself with one hand, squeezing the base of his cock. And out of anger, resentment, humiliation... he groaned like an animal, rising up on his knees. Hard set fingers pinched and twisted the pebbled nipples on his chest. Kurama thrust wantonly through his hand, spreading his thighs wide enough that Yusuke's mouth opened in ecstasy. Throwing his hair back, Kurama moaned and panted, fisting himself almost violently as choked noises fought up his throat. Echoes of Yusuke's own pleasured noises spurred him on, and the spiraling heat crashed down upon his crown until he couldn't breathe. Suddenly Yusuke was over him, cock held his own hand, watching as Kurama pulled himself over the edge, writhing against the air and crying out as he came hard.

Kurama lay back against the foot of the bed, panting. Yusuke leaned down, bending at the waist, to grant him a gentle kiss. A weary kitsune returned the soft gesture, brilliantly dazed eyes sliding shut. Drawing back, Yusuke marveled at the red mouth. Fingers sneaking up into scarlet waves, he secured his hold and stood back up, bringing a resisting redhead with him. Slender hands, still hot from the friction, clawed at his grip. Wide green eyes of surprise spoke volumes as Yusuke stuffed his cock deep into Kurama's mouth, grunting at the teeth and the tongue and the delicious warmth. He felt an unsuspecting throat close in panic over his shaft and bucked his hips once, knocking Kurama's head back against the edge of the mattress. Erection burning with insane fire, Yusuke fucked the redhead's mouth with short jerks of his hips, dazzled by the exquisite suffering in green eyes. He'd never witnessed that shade of green before. Like coils of sea water.

Bitter tears swam down his throat as he choked and gagged. The back of his head ached with the continual rubbing against the stiff and abused mattress, and he struggled to push at Yusuke's hips while they ceaselessly pushed Yusuke's dripping sex deeper down his throat. He could feel the base tighten, and he shut his eyes, waiting for the wet explosion, but just when the shaft stiffened in his mouth, Yusuke ripped back, leaving Kurama's entire mouth numb. Saliva and pre-cum slid down YusukeÕs erection, and Kurama looked up into the face. His mouth felt heavy and stuffed, and weakly he worked his sore jaw as Yusuke's voice gruffly entered his hearing.

"Bend over, and hold your ankles."

From his waist he bent, back to the detective. Red hair folded down gracefully over his head and layered itself on the floor. He spaced his legs, air traveling over and into his skin like ice whispers. The waiting was the worst. His eyes found Yusuke's feet, close. Up through the triangle his legs made, crooked stilts, he saw Yusuke inspecting him, and reach a hand out. Even knowing, and seeing, it still shocked him a little when a probing finger touched the tight ring of muscle. His sharp gasp put a smile of Yusuke's face, he could see. But Yusuke didn't enter him that way. After pressing a teasing thumb to his entrance, Yusuke took Kurama's hips in his hands, already bruised from before, and nosed his erections tip into the cleft.

He ripped Kurama back just as he thrust forward, breaking through with the fanfare of a delicious scream swiped from the kitsune's mouth. Once Yusuke was in, encased in the tightest heat he could ever imagine, he spared little time for adaptation. Leaning straight over the redhead, positioning his feet firmly on the ground, he drew out before ramming back into Kurama with a careful snap of his hips. Beneath him Kurama mewled painfully, knuckles white on his ankles. After the first few rushed thrusts, Yusuke was slipping in and out of a wetted entrance, cock emerging with traces of red, and white pre-cum.

Kurama shut his eyes tight, feeling the thick rod penetrating him ruthlessly, hitting his prostate with unjust deftness, forcing him to cry out and pant like an animal. Soon he found he was rocking back in cadence with the thrusts Yusuke force-fed him, grunting and moaning wantonly. And Yusuke encouraged this behavior, leaning down as he fucked Kurama blind to whisper urges into his shoulders, framed by gentle kisses, each a second span prologue to another deep thrust. Each thrust deeper and harder, and Kurama was yelling, half in whispers, half in sobs, "Harder, please, fuck me harder..." And the sweat and heat and the terrible burn inside of him balled up into a tight shock sitting right on his cock head. Yusuke roared as he thrust with the last traces of euphoria, banging in and out of Kurama with such force that when they both came, Kurama's scream was choked silent.

Sharp aches brought them down, and Kurama dove forward onto the bed. Yusuke lay prone over him, still inside, until the boy rolled off. The wet slap made Kurama wince, as did the sickened feeling of being empty and forced open. Slipping up the sheet, Kurama struggled to his knees, forcing damp locks of sweaty hair out of his face. Yusuke was already standing, pulling up his jeans and once again laying dormant the beast between his legs.

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled free a couple of extra bills. Taking the least of the handful, he threw them down upon the redhead, watching them stick to the sweat streaked, cum smothered body. "You shouldn't be doing this dangerous job, Kurama. You never know who lurks around these places."

Downstairs, Yusuke saw the little blonde twink from before. He looked cornered by a big man-the fat toad who'd been after him. Crystalline blue eyes found him and a little heart shaped mouth called to him silently. Through the smoke and haze, Yusuke walked toward the two. The man had his hands all over the boy, and his gravely voice (cultured by decades of cigars) rolled in a slow moving stench across the twink's fresh features.

"Don't think that tight little ass can fit me?" His thick sausage fingers closed on a delicate wrist and the boy practically hung there. "C'mon, little bitch. Open your mouth for daddy." With persistent fingers, the man pried open the youth's mouth, thoroughly wetting the fat digits with saliva. Tears streaked the boy's face, and Yusuke-as he got closer-could see the darkened outline of a bruise flowering on the boy's cheek. "That's it, baby slut. I'm going to show you what you're worth-"

He was unconscious before his vast body even collapsed. The moment the mass had stilled on the floor, the blonde leapt at Yusuke, throwing his arms around his neck.

"Hey, Stranger," he whispered, eyes shining, marveled by the swiftness of Yusuke's punch. The dark boy fingered the spot on his face where the man had hit him. "Oh-that's nothing to be bothered with. Now, are you going to stay? I made tips, so now I can get *you* the drink."

"No." He pushed the last of his money into the prostitute's hand. "This'll have you free for the night. But I've got to get out of here before this place seeps into my soul."

A beautiful smile lighted in his eyes. "You talk so strangely. At least let me give you a kiss-of thanks?" He craned up on his toes and gently brushed the boy's lips. Gold lashes sparkled on his pools of blue as his eyes slipped shut, lips opening against the warm mouth. This guy tasted strong. The blonde finally drew back when he needed to catch his breath. Running his fingers flirtatiously through short black hair, he whispered, "I think I've fallen in love with you."

...

A/N: This story is so weird to me. Kurama's part is almost like a footnote. But I just like the blonde and wanted to finish with him. At the same time, I hope I created some kind of parallel for irony. All the while Yusuke is being so kind to this poor prostitute, and upstairs Kurama is broken and bleeding. Hmmm. *strokes invisible goatee thoughtfully* Hmmm...


End file.
